2023 Teen Poetry Contest
Hosted by Greenburgh Public Library and Writopia Lab
Submissions open: April 1st - April 15th
Contest Rules
Teen Poets entering the contest must be 12-19 years of age
Teen Poets must be Westchester residents
Entries must be original unpublished poems in English (though bilingual poems are acceptable). Any poetic style is acceptable.
One entry per person.
One page maximum length.
Library employees are not eligible to enter.
Teen Poetry Celebration: Saturday, April 29th from 2-4 PM
The Celebration will include: Announcement of Poetry Contest Winners, Poetry Readings from contest submitters, and refreshments.
It is the perfect way to cap off National Poetry Month. Feel free to bring guests, friends, and family! We would love it if you would even do a reading of your poem for the audience. Advance registration is recommended but walk-ins are also welcome!
2022 Teen Poetry Contest Winners
1st Place - Jhanae Ottey's "Poppy, I Am Not Free"
2nd Place - Michael Roehrl's "Storming The Beach"
3rd Place - June Lee's "Tart"
Poppy, I Am Not Free By Jhanae Ottey
What is a flower if I am a Black girl?
Black lavender: waft the smoke of Black Wallstreet
Wild Black roses for Black love, pleasure, and pain
Burnt daisies for the lynchings
White lily, white woman, white and pure
Black and blue cornflower, “be gentle with me”
What is a flower if my ancestors were slaves?
Bouquet of cotton for the dining table
Southern Sunday dinners steaming, served with Hattie’s award-winning smile
Fistful of seeds for the runaways
Tuck that poppy, “I am not free”, behind the ear of the restrained poets
Ellison warbles of Wright
The squabbles of the politics of poetry
Red carnation, “My heart aches for you,”
Christmas card love letter from the Black boy signed with “L” for love,
Canterbury bell, “Your letter received”
Black boy drowned at gunpoint while father watches on
Ode to the empty casket brimmed with black carnations for Willie James
This morning, may the Black girl marvel at the hyacinth, “Your loveliness charms me?”
Remember a rainy October in its dewy petals?
Sigh at her past lover’s posture in a bowing stem?
May this flower be a flower in a Black girl’s poem?
No, rip out those pages for their margins
Storming the Beach by By Michael Roehrl
The waves come crashing on the coast
Like tears that swell the red eye’s rim
Foreboding of the storm to come
The malice in cloud’s complexion
All gray and gloom and moving in
This airforce only knows one way
Forward to conquer and to take;
To seize the land and fire away
Heavy raindrops: bullets and bombs
Which beat sand and earth to decay
The battle lost!
We all are done!
The palms, like the tall tufts of grass,
With coconuts, shake, spattering
Under fire (green blades rustling)
Shelter for bright birds with wet wings
Who in the rain dare not to squawk,
And insects (oh those creepy things!)
Who in the night, like much to talk
Now these, beneath sagging leaves stand,
As I, all victims of the rain.
Nike wants no more with the land.
The battle lost!
But wait, the sun?!
The sun cuts cotton clouds with its
Candescent blade: a ray of sear-
ing bright and heat, the storm is beat.
The trees no longer whistle in
The wind, which clouds use to retreat.
Tart By June Lee
And in her hand, the grapefruit sits
She polishes the fruit
And runs red lips across the pith
A trail of ruby rouge
It’s sour, ripe, and sticky sweet
She smiles a sickly smile
Thick blemished skin will hold the treat
Another night defiled
She wails her hurting cry aloud
She’s torn, a wretched sight
She’s learned to make her way around
Sating vicious appetites
It drips and drips on shameless hands
The pulp stares at the sky
She pieces it together
And in shaking hands it cries
The woman holds the fruit to heart
With only it, consoles
She reminisces days of home
And the feel of being whole
Inspired by Darlene Pawlik’s story, a survivor of child sex trafficking
Announcing the Greenburgh Public Library 2022
Teen Poetry Contest
Teen Poetry Celebration
Please spread the word to your students & friends!
A great way to Celebrate National Poetry Month coming this April!
Poem Submissions Closed 4/11/22
Do not include poet’s name on the page with your poem.
Notice: By submitting your work to this contest you are agreeing to allow the Greenburgh Public Library to post your poem with your name as author and your photo on Poetry Contest publicity, the library website, and social media accounts.
For more information please call 914-721-8224 or email GPLPoetryContest@gmail.com.
1st Place = Aaliyah Ali - "to whom it least concerns"
Can't you | you, | I can't |
see | ripped by | Be. |
the madness | these | My mind |
being driven into | trembling | turned to dust |
me? |
hands, |
for |
The longing | wrenching locks | naught, |
spilling out | of my own | Pitiful lungs |
and | hair | ruined b your |
corrupting? | forced to wipe | intoxicating |
Tell me you | burning | scent, |
aren't | tears | The longing to be |
blind, | muffling sounds | near you, |
unaware, | of agony | growing |
of my bleeding heart | escaping cracked | with no care |
on the floor, | lips, | So, |
beholding | Even if you don't... | I plead, |
the scar tissue | Tell me, | see |
that is | please. | Me. |
2nd Place = Sophie Gustin - "Edge of Adolescence"
I know a lot of things, but darling
I don’t know a thing
Dancing ‘round my room
Bathing in the pale moonlight
Somedays I pinch myself just to feel at all
Oh, the things we do to feel alive
You remind me of an old friend
Or someone I’ve yet to meet
Empty picture frames I wish that I could fill
A planet overcrowded with lonely souls
A small girl in a vast universe
Somehow, some way I got here in one piece
I wish that I could tell you how, but darling
I don’t know a thing
3rd Place = Norah Baldwin - "Tea(ch)"
Momma had a charcoal-black tea kettle
that sung a high pitched tune every Sunday morning
before the honey-colored beams of sunlight
penetrated the sole window in the kitchen
her tea filled the house with a scent of
delicate jasmine and earthy chamomile
it tickled my nose as she poured herself a cup
in the gold engraved china mug
the steam cascaded up towards the
musty, yellow, peeling ceiling
and she blew on it like the strong October wind
that shook the tangerine-colored leaves
from the lone oak tree in our quaint backyard
Momma saw me watching her from the rickety stair well
and gave me a gentle smile
as she stirred sickly sweet saccharine with a spoon into her tea
The gentle clanging of the golden spoon against the rim made my spine tingle
Momma put her spoon down on a dingy, yellow paper towel
that was stained from Daddy’s coffee
she looked at me with her pale, jade green eyes
and whispered,
my dear,
life is like tea;
to make a good cup we must have just the right amount of ingredients
to have a good life, it is the same
lastly, it must be sipped slowly
careful not to burn your tongue
because the best things come to those who wait
First Place = Dalia Zlata Roshal for "When The World Is Spinning Out of Control"
Second Place = C. Carter Holmes for "Intuition or Anxiety"
Third Place = Eliza Kaeding for "Creating Words"
First Place = Mossiah Smith for "Black Man's Plight"
Black Man's Plight
Only one way out of the black man’s plight
You gotta dribble like Kyrie or bounce like Mike
What are we supposed to do if we can’t fiddle with mics?
We join gangs, we get into fights
We sell dope, we stay out at night
All this, just to keep on the lights
From the moment we stepped upon this patch of land
It appears that we were forsaken, damned
If it’s not a dribble on a court, we’re unable to reach
Instead, we’re still with many of our black men unable to breach
Rifles held to the chest by a white man’s hand
Somehow still the white man thinks he’s damned
The littlest ounce of prospering makes the white man mad
If it’s not entertainment, there’s no love
We ain’t it, eons of ignorance, is what I blame it
Shut up and dribble, this generation's “Make me a Sandwich”
Maybe we need to stop asking for understanding
I can’t stand it the fashion in which they brand us
Economic suffering not killing us fast enough
We still in a noose, it just isn’t fastened ‘nuf
Only one way out of the black man’s plight
You gotta dribble like Kyrie or bounce like Mike
What are we supposed to do if we can’t fiddle with mics?
We join gangs, we get into fights
We sell dope, we stay out at night
All this, just to keep on the lights
They assassinate my character
I say, they’ve broken the marriage up
No longer are we united by the humanity that once bandaged us
100 plus years of suffering hasn’t abandoned us
Maybe it’s time to stop looking for the recognition
We all hurting and it’s time we recognized the condition
To all my brothers and sisters I wish that we could just kick it
To all my brothers and sisters I wish for our commitment
To all my brothers and sisters I wish you’d support our business
To all my brothers and sisters working for what feels like forever,
To all my brothers and sisters it ain't too late to come together
Cause too much black and too much love, equal forever
Second Place = Lynassa Lugay for "Love Letter"
Love Letter
It is 11:11 pm
Instead of counting sheep to invite sleep, she counts calories
She fills up on warm water, saltines, and compliments
And the warm mahogany that once filled her skin has become gray and diluted like the love she had for herself
Baby girl, we were made for soft stomachs and realistic standards
For full breasts and sweet thoughts
Your lips drip with sugar for everyone else when that beauty should have your name written on it
These curves are a story that needs to read and protruding ribs cages do not allow that
It is 11:11 and my wish is that you fall in love with your intelligence
That you shed negativity not hair or pounds
That the cold in your lips is the result of ice cream sandwiches
Allow yourself to love the rolls when you sit
The chins from laughter
The friction of your thighs when you walk
Because, my love, how else would we spark fires?
Third Place = Noah Plattus for"Amusement Adventures"
Amusement Adventures
I see the lights
They glow in the distance
I follow the path
Im finally back
The line is so long
But I stand there strong
The cart is there
I sit down it the chair
Ready to go
Please go slow!
We move up the ramp
I am the champ
But when there’s the drop
My heart begins to stop
People are laughing
People are screaming
I'm just teeming
To get off the ride
The stop has arrived
Im thrilled I survived